The Lullaby of an Incubus
by Diluted Thoughts
Summary: It all started with an unanticipated marriage proposal...and then the fine line between what was real and what was fantasy began crashing in...


WHOA. I'm taking time to write a fiction based on the Pharaoh's Memory Arc…justbecausethisideaforaplothasbeenkillingmeforever. Less comedic (toward the end) than most of my other fanfictions, (its still got the out of character-ness?) and a lot more…uhm…

…

Whatever. I can't find the right word. Still interested? Probably not. But if you are (Hallelujah!) then you might as well read to find out what the hell I'm talking about.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Duties of a High Priestess, According to Isis:

1. Make sure there is no clichéd scheme to overthrow the Pharaoh. (Yes, it is monotonous work.)  
2. Alert His Highness of any forms of rebellion…if not able to cease them. (Oh, joy.)  
3. Pray accordingly to keep the gods content and satisfied. (A prayer a day keeps the gods at bay!)  
4. Dismiss any females claiming to be the fiancées of the Pharaoh or any of his priests. (Fun, fun…)  
5. Attempt to foresee any impending threats to the courtship of the Pharaoh. (Number five had been added because of a certain self-proclaimed _King of Thieves_.)

And then there were moments like this. Moments where she could just stare at the afternoon sun and take a…

"My lady!"

…**relaxing break**.

Isis plastered a tight smile onto her face. _Stay calm, stay calm_. It wasn't entirely the guard's fault for interrupting her. He had duties, too—duties he had as much of a chance shirking as she did.

"Yes?"

"His Kingship would like a word with you. Immediately."

_Immediately_? She hadn't done anything **wrong**, had she? No, not that she knew of. She couldn't possibly have.

…

But then again, reassuring herself wasn't helping either.

Isis offered the guard a nod in acknowledgement and left briskly. She swallowed hesitantly. If anything, only two things could possibly go wrong:

1. She could be stripped of her title as High Priestess.  
2. The Pharaoh might sentence her to be stoned to death.

When looking at it like that, it really didn't seem too bad…

…it seemed WORSE.

"Isis."

She turned to see her Pharaoh gazing at her, a smile lining his lips. Her shoulders relaxed a bit and she took a deep breath.

He was smiling. That was a positive, right?

Isis knelt before him, keeping her eyes downcast as a sign of respect…and because she had no idea what to expect.

"My Pharaoh, you needed to speak to me?"

_Maintain your composure, Isis_.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for coming on such short notice,"—he was thanking her, that **had **to be a good thing—"There's a matter that I'd like to discuss with you."

"As you wish, my Pharaoh. What is it that you would like to discuss?"

"Marriage."

…

She hadn't been expecting THIS.

"You see, Siamun has informed me that I am at an opportune age to be married…"

Wasn't he at an 'opportune age' nearly **FIVE** years ago?

"…and I'm in need of…well…a wife."

Silence passed between them. Isis cleared her throat uncomfortably before making a response.

"Perhaps you could consider asking one of the noble's daughters. They already seem quite taken—"

"No."

She looked up, startled, as he took both of her hands in his own and lifted her to her feet.

"My…King?"

"Isis, will you do me the honor of being my bride?"

"…"

**NO**.

This was impossible! HER? Of all people, why did he have to pick **her**? She wasn't ready for this…for marriage! She was his _HIGH PRIESTESS_ not _QUEEN-TO-BE_!

"Of course, you'll have time to think about it…" He smiled down at her, mistaking her look of sheer frenzy for one of excitement.

Isis didn't respond straight away. "…If that is all, my Pharaoh, then may I be dismissed?" she asked quietly, staring down at her hands—the hands that were _still_ being held by him.

He let go of her hands reluctantly and then nodded, "You may…but I do expect your answer soon." A gentle smiled traced his lips again. Isis returned it—briefly—before departing as quickly and coolly as possible.

"Oh, and Isis…"

She stopped and turned to face him, hoping he wasn't going to bring up something like _when_ he wanted to marry her and _who_ was invited.

"My Pharaoh?"

"You needn't address me so formally."

She inclined her head towards him thoughtfully, as if to ask, _Then what do you want me to call you?_

He chuckled.

"Why, 'husband,' of course!"

* * *

Isis wondered how the day could have possibly gotten from _unpleasant_ to bad to **worse**.

Here she was, walking through the courtyard, after the Pharaoh—_her_ Pharaoh—had asked for her hand in marriage. Was that even permissible, she wondered. Surely there was some rule against marrying one of your own priestesses.

There had to be.

She bit her lip and sat down on one of the benches. Why had Siamun and Akunadin chosen _now_ of all times to take a trip into one of the villages? And as if that wasn't bad enough, they wouldn't be back until the full moon…which gave her about oh, four days, give or take a few hours.

…

Lovely.

"Isis? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, you look a bit…glum."

Well, wouldn't _you_ feel glum if _your_ Pharaoh proposed to you and expected you to marry him?

Isis forced herself to glance up. Despite herself, she smiled.

"Karim… Shaada."

Perfect! She could tell them about what happened when she met with the Pharaoh. They'd understand for sure, and maybe even offer her some advice.

For _once_, the day was actually looking up.

She nodded, "Yes, something did happen."

"What happened?"

"You know you can tell us."

Isis felt herself relaxing considerably at their words. She inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, enjoying the sweet scent of the air. Suddenly, she felt a pang of worry.

"I doubt you'll believe me…"

The two priests took a seat on either side of her.

"Of course we'll believe you," Shaada said softly. Karim nodded in agreement.

Isis fumbled with her hands in her lap in order to ease her sudden tension. Mustering up what courage she had, she told them, honestly.

"The Pharaoh proposed to…me."

_Blink_.

_Blink_.

"Well, of course he did!"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"…"

This was **not** the reaction she had anticipated.

"…Forgive me, but what do you mea—"

"Isn't it obvious?" Karim asked, frowning, "The Pharaoh would naturally be enamored by someone as beautiful as you."

"Yes, and intelligent."

"I…I beg your pardon?" Isis sputtered, staring at them both, mortified. They simply gazed at her, smiling. Feeling uneasy, she got to her feet in an instant and cautiously took a step back. Shaada and Karim said or did nothing, but only watched her as she hastily departed for her chamber.

Why her?

* * *

The Pharaoh, Karim, and Shaada.

They somehow—inexplicably—had become _infatuated _(she refused to use a certain four-letter word that began with _l_) with her. It was not the end of the world.

…

Who was she kidding? Of course it was!

Isis began sorting out what possibilities she had:

a. She could tell the three of them that their remarks were flattering (even though they weren't), and let them _politely_ know that she wasn't interested in any one of them.  
b. She could simply ignore them, and when it came time to face the Pharaoh, collapse and fake an illness.  
c. She could leave. Right now.

None of them seemed like they were going to work…well, perhaps the last one—

_Crash_.

Isis made a mental note to herself to always keep her eyes set forward, even when she was lost in thought.

"Excuse me," she heard the other mutter softly.

"No, it was entirely my fault. Don't blame—" Isis paused as she looked at the person she had collided with.

"—Mahaado?"

The priest caught her gaze as he tucked a strand of his long mahogany hair behind his ear. He looked relieved and laughed, "Thank goodness its you, Isis! I thought I had bumped into one of the other priestesses…"

"They've been rather…irritable for the past few days," he added under his breath.

Isis laughed, just as relieved as he was. Mahaado, of course! They'd been close friends for years. There was no way he could be under the same ridiculous…spell as the others were. He _was_ the magician of the court, after all.

"Where have you been? I heard one of the guards rushing to tell you that the King needed you." His brows furrowed, "Is everything well?"

She sighed deeply. At least **he** was acting normally.

"Mahaado, it's absurd. It really is."

"What is?"

"The Pharaoh…Karim…even Shaada…they've been acting so strangely."

"What did they do?"

Isis glanced at Mahaado, saw the troubled look in his eyes and continued.

"You see, the Pharaoh called me over to…" Her voice faltered, the shock still weighing heavily on her composure.

"To…?"

"He asked for my hand in marriage."

Mahaado raised his eyebrows, speechless. Isis acknowledged his reaction with a nod.

"Yes, and then when I told Karim and Shaada, they…they acted as if it came no surprise to them. Instead of realizing how much of a _problem_ it was, they told me of the reasons _why_ the Pharaoh had proposed to me—as if I was pleased with the idea!"

After a brief silence, Isis spoke softly, desperately.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do…"

"Leave it to me."

Isis looked up, startled at his sudden response. Leave it to him? Did he really believe that he could fix this problem for her?

Mahaado apparently saw anxious look on her face, for at that moment he chose to speak.

"Perhaps I can advise the Pharaoh to…reconsider? Or at least _suggest_ that he be open-minded about hearing your answer—whatever it may be."

He gave her a slight smile, as if to say, _And I can tell your answer is going to be somewhere along the lines of "NO_."

"Would you really do that, Mahaado?" she asked incredulously.

He wordlessly lifted her hand and brushed his lips against the back of it, never taking his eyes off her.

"Anything for you, Isis."

She instantly recoiled, pulling back her hand.

**_No_**!

"Not you, too…" Isis murmured in disbelief, "Why, Mahaado…?"

_Isis._

"Yes?" she asked aloud. Mahaado only stared at her with that same smile, saying nothing.

_Isis?_

"What is it?"

Again she got no response. She was about to tell Mahaado to stop playing his mind games with her, but then realized it didn't sound like his voice.

It sounded…different.

_Isis!_

She felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. As the voice grew louder, the world around her grew fainter. Mahaado looked almost transparent, but he did nothing. Isis realized he wasn't even breathing. Had he been suspended in time?

_Isis, wake up!_

Wake up? Just what was going on here?

* * *

Isis shot her eyes open, surrounded by darkness. She looked around almost frantically, wondering if she had somehow went blind. It was then she realized where she was.

…Her bedroom?

She sat up in bed, gasping.

Had that been a dream? But it had seemed so real. Even now she could hear their words—their _exact_ words. There was no way that she could have been dreaming. It had felt all too real.

"Isis…"

And there was that voice again. It was coming from her room? She scanned the interior uneasily.

Just who was **in** her room, anyway?

The light of a torch caught her eye. A figure—whoever it was—took a few steps closer and held the torch up so she got a clear look at the face. Pale skin, dark blue eyes, auburn hair.

"Seth, is that you?"

He nodded, moving so he was at her bedside. Isis was shocked to see a rare look of concern on the high priest's usually emotionless face.

"Forgive me for awaking you so suddenly," he murmured softly.

"No, I'm glad you did…"

"You were having a nightmare, isn't that right?"

"Yes."

She paused, and then eyed him warily.

"How did you enter my chamber?"

"Your door was unlocked, and as I was passing by, I heard you talking in your sleep."

"You were passing by?"

Seth nodded, "I was coming back from the courtyard. My mind was ill at ease, so I felt the need to take a walk and clear my head."

Isis averted her gaze, feeling foolish about how distrustful she had been of his motives.

"That must have been quite a nightmare. I've never seen you so shaken," Seth pointed out, looking at her appraisingly.

Isis smiled weakly, "That's an understatement. It was…" She trailed off and put a ginger hand against her throat.

"You seem thirsty. Come, I have a water pitcher in my bedroom. You can drink as you tell me about what happened." He paused, and then quickly added, "That is, if you feel comfortable discussing it."

She glanced at him hesitantly. After all that had happened in her alleged "dream" then what if…

Seth allowed himself to smile a bit at her uncertainty. He held out a hand for her, motioning for her to take it.

Taking a deep breath and giving Seth the benefit of the doubt, Isis reluctantly took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. She glanced down nervously as she felt something brush against her ankle, but then realized it was only the hem of her tunic.

After Isis had settled herself into a pair of slippers, Seth offered her his arm. She lightly grasped it, allowing him to lead the way to his bedchamber. Even as they walked, her eyes refused to adjust to the darkness. At one point she nearly stumbled, and would have had Seth not steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered, regaining her balance.

"Of course."

So, apparently, the dream was still affecting her. Fantastic, now she probably looked like a complete fool to Seth. She glanced at him, but once again his eyes had become a mask of indifference.

They walked in silence as thoughts about the dream continued to plague her mind. Even if it had been just a _dream_, she still felt on edge. It was as if she wasn't **finished** dreaming yet—as if something was still waiting for her…

"We're here."

Seth halted in front of his room and gently pushed. The door opened soundlessly, and he held it open for her. Isis nodded in thanks and walked in, gazing around the room. Despite the time of night, the room was still well lit. She saw a scroll draped across a desk in the corner and hid a smile. Reading, was he? He was as dedicated as ever. No wonder he had trouble sleeping.

"Here, drink this."

Isis turned to see Seth standing next to her with a cup of water. She took it gratefully and sipped it. Her parched throat instantly felt refreshed. If anything good had came out of this little ordeal, it was getting the idea of keeping a jug of water in her room for…emergencies.

She watched as Seth brought out two chairs—one from his desk and the other from underneath his neatly folded robes. Isis blinked and suddenly—_randomly_—realized that Seth was wearing a long cotton tunic. She resisted the urge to laugh, wondering how crestfallen the village girls would be to find out their beloved high priest slept in…

…a **tunic**.

Isis almost did laugh then, but stopped herself by taking another sip of water. Whether Seth noticed or not, he chose not to say; he only told her to take a seat and rest. She nodded and took the seat as appreciatively as she had taken the water.

He sat down a polite distance away from her on the other chair. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, he chose to speak.

"Isis, do you want to tell me about what happened in your nightmare?"

She looked down at the cup in her hands and took a deep breath.

The dream—no, he was right…the _nightmare_…

Isis felt humiliated for dreaming something so ridiculous—so improbable. What would Seth think of her after she told him? She swallowed painfully. Maybe telling him would be for the best. It would be nice to get what happened off her mind…

Slowly, Isis began telling him what happened from start to finish, recalling back to mind every possible detail.

Seth sat with his eyes downcast onto the floor, glancing up at her and nodding here and there to show that he was listening. Isis continued staring at the cup of water in her hand, not wanting to look up and see Seth's expression—whether it be mocking, amused or anything else.

He sat back in his chair after she finished, crossing his legs. His auburn bangs fell over his eyes, completely obscuring any of his emotions from her.

"Interesting…" he mused softly.

Isis sat for a minute, debating on what she should do to break the sudden awkward…silence. Come to think of it, she'd had a number of awkward silences with Seth—especially tonight.

Finally, she got to her feet and set the now empty cup next to the jug of water, "Should I wash this?"

When she didn't receive a response, Isis glanced back over her shoulder. Seth caught her eye and shook his head.

"I'll take care of it."

Isis uneasily straightened the sleeve of her tunic as she walked towards his door. Upon realizing that Seth was making no inclination of moving or saying anything, she decided to speak.

"Thank you for being so hospitable—and even more so for taking the time to listen to my…nightmare." She made her statement of gratitude as thankful and _brief_ as possible.

"Good night, Seth."

"Just a moment, Isis."

Isis turned from the door, "Ye—" She stopped when she suddenly realized that Seth was no longer seated at his chair. Her brows furrowed together as she looked from left to right. She hadn't even heard him **move**.

"There's something I'd like to point out before you leave…"

Isis whirled around as she felt a cold hand wrap around her wrist. She glanced down and saw his pale hand—briefly—before he threw her against the wall. Isis managed to balance herself before she hit the wall entirely, but still felt completely disoriented.

"You see, _you_ and _I_ wouldn't have to leave our chambers to begin a relationship, my dear high priestess," Seth remarked, blocking her escape by leaning against the wall with an arm outstretched on either side of her.

…

No. No! NO!

Not again!

Isis glared at him despite her alarm, determined not to let him get the best of her. "You sicken me," she managed to whisper indignantly, her mouth dry once more.

Seth smirked down at her, his cobalt eyes bright with amusement.

"That will probably work out for the best."

"You had this planned out from the beginning, didn't you?" Isis asked bitterly, "Gaining my trust…listening to that terrible nightmare…it was all a part of your ploy, wasn't it?"

"Clever, Isis. I would expect no less from you." He paused almost thoughtfully, "However, you've failed to see through my _entire_ pretense."

"How so?"

"Your nightmare…who do you think invented it?"

She stared at him, half in disbelief, half in anger, "You? Seth, _you_ created that nightmare?"

"Guilty as charged, I'm afraid."

"But…why?"

"Do you really mean to tell me you don't know?" Seth asked unbelievingly.

"Why else would I have asked?" Isis countered, trying to keep her calm.

"…I did it _because_ of you. I did it _for_ you."

"_For_ me?"

"Yes, for you… Isis, do you realize how many people are truly captivated by you? People you see and greet each and every day, people you wouldn't even expect. Their gazes lock onto you when you enter a room, and follow your turned back as you depart. They are thoroughly…dazzled."

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Isis asked in open distrust.

Seth cocked his head to one side, gesturing something along the lines of, _Believe what you want_.

He leaned down, putting only the minimal amount of breathing room between them. His eyes gleamed with a new emotion—one Isis refused to acknowledge, even though she very well knew what it was—as he slid his hand down the wall and brushed his fingers against her cheek.

"I, for one, am truly mesmerized by you, Isis…"

Isis instinctively raised a hand and pushed his hand away from her face. Seth continued smirking complacently, grabbing her hand and pressing it to his lips—distinctly reminding her of her nightmare. She resisted the urge to pull her hand back, wary of what he may try to do to as a counteraction.

"You have a village full of girls to choose from, Seth, so why me?" she asked, shocked by how nonchalant her voice sounded.

His pale face darkened some. "They're fickle," Seth stated flatly, "and simply not worth my time." When she said nothing, he added, "And besides…they pale in comparison to you, high priestess."

His gaze flicked down at her lips briefly, causing her eyes to harden with anger.

"Remember your vows!"

"My dear, I forsook my vows the day I laid my eyes upon you."

Isis found herself shrinking back against the wall as Seth grew even closer, his eyes darkening dangerously. For a moment she could have swore they flickered from dark blue to black. Seth held the hand he had kissed to his chest, his other lightly tracing the outline of her cheekbone. His cool fingertips slowly tilted up her chin so their gazes locked together.

Isis unwillingly caught her own reflection in his eyes. She stared at herself, surprised at how calm she still looked. Years of perfecting her calm façade had made the expression almost stick permanently.

Her eyes narrowed as she noticed something.

Where was…

She instantly reached up a hand to her neck. Save for the cloth of the neckline, she felt nothing. It was _bare_.

"What have you done with my Sennen Tauk?"

Seth came to a halt and drew back a bit, his expression amused yet again.

"Where is my Tauk?" she asked once more.

This time he pulled back completely and released her hand, removing his own hand from her face. He raised his chin towards her in a skeptical gesture.

Isis took a small step forward from the wall, piecing two-and-two together. "So that was how you were able to bring about the dream. You took my Tauk as I slept and used your Rod to inflict that awful nightmare upon me, did you not?"

Seth held his hands out in front of him in concession, laughing some.

"I confess… Still as astute as ever, I see."

"Give it back to me."

To her surprise, Seth stooped into a bow, crossing his right arm over his chest, "As you wish, _my lady_." Isis saw a quick glimpse of his eyes from beneath the strands of his auburn hair. She grimaced at how mocking his gaze was.

As she watched Seth take up a leisurely stride to retreat her Tauk, Isis hurriedly thought of her potential ways of escaping…**untouched**. She could make a run for it now towards the door while he was distracted—but she wasn't leaving without her Item.

Could she scream?

No.

She eliminated that possibility as soon as she thought of it. To begin with, his room just happened to be the last one down the corridor, meaning that screaming would be absolutely futile. And secondly…who knew what precautions he would take to make sure she wasn't heard. Isis didn't dawdle on the gruesome details for too long.

So, that just left one thing.

She would have to simply retrieve her Tauk and make a departure as quickly and quietly as physically possible.

…

Simple enough.

The thought of how close Seth had come to her still plagued her memory. She shivered despite the thick cotton of her tunic.

"Cold, are you?"

Isis looked up, startled at the sudden sound of his hoarse voice. Seth was staring back at her, his eyebrow raised almost skeptically.

"Perhaps you could borrow _my_ tunic," he suggested, pulling at the neckline.

Isis supplied him with an uncharacteristic death glare. Seth only gave her an innocent shrug in return, but she glimpsed him smirking—yet again—as he turned his back to her.

As Seth reached the crook of his desk, Isis eyed both him and the box he was moving towards cagily. Silently opening the gold and scarlet plated box, Seth carefully pulled out her Necklace along with something else. Her eyes focused in on the second article that he removed.

Of course, his Rod. It didn't come as a surprise to her. In fact, she had been half expecting it all along.

She held out her hand, beckoning for the Tauk.

Seth glanced at her fleetingly before tossing her Item onto his bed, registering a soft thump from the mattress. Turning his full attention back to her, Seth presented her with an evocative grin with a seductive gleam in his eyes.

Isis challenged him with a look that redefined the phrase 'if looks could kill, you'd be dead.'

He laughed, genuinely amused at her expression, "Come now, you know I would do no such thing—especially after all that you've been through tonight."

Now why did she find that so hard to believe?

Isis briefly—unconsciously—let her guard down as she pondered that thought. But that split second was all Seth needed. She drew in a sharp breath as he quickly clasped her still extended hand and pulled her towards him, giving her a single twirl before she unwillingly fell into his arms.

She felt the Rod pressed against her back and met his gaze, boldly, "You wish to control me with your Item then, Seth? Was that your backup strategy all along—that if I didn't succumb to you willingly, you would use force?"

Seth slipped his right hand off her back, the Rod along with it. Isis would've wrenched away if his other hand hadn't been firmly grasping her arm. He managed to tear his gaze away from her as he studied the gold frame of the Rod carefully.

"No. I respect you far too much to use some mediocre trick to force you to yield to my will."

Without a moment's hesitation, Seth threw his own Item over his back and let it fall onto his mattress besides hers. If it had been any other situation, she would've believed his sincere tone and taken his action to heart.

"Your words would hold more value had you _not_ caused that abysmal nightmare."

Seth considered her words for a moment, feigning consideration. "You do have me there…" he admitted, returning his hand to her back as he plastered on his signature smirk.

How she'd come to loathe that smirk. She felt like melting every time she saw it—not from charm like the village girls—but from its complete and utter revulsion.

Seth raked his slender fingers into her hair, closing his eyes as he dipped his head down to inhale deeply by her hair.

"The scent of your hair has always driven me to the edge of insanity," he whispered in her ear, curling his fingers into her obsidian locks.

Edge of insanity? That was impossible. He was already **insane**.

Isis stiffened, glaring daggers as she tipped her head away from his hand, "Release me."

"Then grant me this one favor…"

When she failed to answer, Seth pulled back. His eyes settled on her lips as they clouded with a familiar look of desire. With a short, almost careless look into her eyes, Seth bent down as his hand snaked down from her back to her waist.

That was _it_.

Isis broke her composed frontage instantly. She clasped her fingers around the hand that was slowly moving towards her waist. Jerking her arm free of his grasp, Isis struck her hand against his face.

His face turned as the blow struck his cheek. Seth raised a hand and placed it onto his face where a light red mark had formed. His eyes turned to her, more startled than angry.

She narrowed her eyes threateningly, burning her own gaze into his.

"_Don't ever touch me_."

Rushing past him, Isis grabbed her Tauk off the bed and ran towards the door. She whirled around, pleased to see that he hadn't made any sudden movements. He was simply watching her, his face devoid of any emotions.

Isis quickly returned the Tauk to her neck. Giving Seth a passing glance to make sure he didn't move, she grasped the handle and began to leave.

At last—

Suddenly, Isis found her legs shaking. Growing lightheaded, she sank to her knees, using the handle as support. Clutching the Tauk with her other hand, Isis felt her gaze grow blurry. She stared down at the floor, breathing heavily and feeling like she had a fever.

No! How could this be happening?

Trying to get her eyes to focus, Isis looked up. Everything had become an indistinct haze. She couldn't tell one thing from another, much less find Seth amidst her confusion.

"Seth, what have you done?" she mouthed, realizing she couldn't even speak.

She couldn't stay here. She had to go. She needed air.

Gathering her strength, Isis tightening her grip on the handle and pushed back the door so it opened.

Darkness…

* * *

Isis found herself on her bed, covered in a cold sweat. Her hand still clutched the eye of her Tauk. It felt warm, as if she had just gotten through using it—but she hadn't…

…had she?

She didn't know what to believe anymore. Dream or reality, fact or fiction—it all seemed the same to her.

"…I trust you had pleasant dreams, Isis."

…

Throwing the covers off herself as she heard the familiar husky whisper, Isis leapt out of bed. She rushed out the door, not even bothering to glance at the figure that leaned against the wall, watching her with a condescending smile.

"Perhaps I was mistaken."

* * *

Finally finished!

(insert cheers here)

_I hate scenarios that manifest themselves when you're listening to music and watching anime/reading manga. Okay, that's a lie. I credit this to…Yuugiou: Millennium World manga and Haunted by Evanescence. (Ooo, yes, what a dastardly mix.)_

Anorexic in Denial_ will be updated momentarily…which means…whenever the hell I get around to it. _

_Leaveth a review…eth._

P.S. Before I get reviews saying, "Seth wasn't pale!" or something along the lines of that, well…okay…thanks for sharing. I just based that whole part on episode**—**_fifty-two, was it?—where Ishizu debuts and there's that whole DUBBED ordeal of…hocus-pocus magic tricks and hallucinations. Anyway, Seth's outfit was ridiculously hilarious…and he looked pale. _

So in simpler terms…I made him pale because his outfit in that episode stood out the most?

…

Whatever. I don't know. Don't ask me! This is the aftermath of having four mini blueberry muffins. Damn you, muffins, and your sweet blueberry goodness!


End file.
